


The Crown Hangs Heavy

by ShadowHaloedAngel



Series: Stay [7]
Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Antidotes, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Drowning, Electrocution, F/F, Heist Wives, Poison, Poisoning, Post-Prison, Rescue, Restraints, Torture, Waterboarding, Whumptober, misuse of cattle prods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-07-28 14:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16243454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowHaloedAngel/pseuds/ShadowHaloedAngel
Summary: Debbie's forced to watch as the torture continues, until a sudden phone call makes their captors leave them for dead. It takes more than being poisoned to keep Debbie Ocean down, and she's just glad their captors were clumsy, arrogant, and rushed. If there's one thing she's sure of, it's that neither she nor Lou was meant to die like this. If there's another thing she's sure of, it's that revenge for this will mean burning the whole world down.Prompts: 12. Electrocution/14. Torture/24. Drowning; 13. "Stay."





	The Crown Hangs Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to flightinflame for sending me the prompts, to Fahre for inspiration, and to Why for being an exceedingly patient and appropriately evil sounding board and second pair of eyes.
> 
> I took one look at the prompts and knew I had to do something with Debbie and Lou for them, but rather than doing the challenge properly with a series of short fics, I ended up planning out a whole series with a story arc and everything, combining prompts into stories. I've never done anything like this before, and I appreciate that I'm not technically doing it properly this time, but I'm excited about it. The whole series is planned, but might not all go up during October depending on how long it takes me to write. Obviously, warning, this is based on Whumptober prompts, and it's going to go pretty dark at times. I promise there will be a happy ending, because I don't do hurt without comfort, it's just that this time there's going to be a little longer to wait. I hope you'll find it worth it.
> 
> Oh, and I'll award cookies to people who figure out what the connection is between work titles as the month goes on

They've been here hours, and it hasn't stopped. Debbie had wondered if they might get tired, in her opinion an unpredictable schedule would be more terrifying, but her head is swimming and she's hardly an expert in this kind of thing. Her vision is blurring, and she feels hot all over. Her throat is hoarse, and she can't tell if it's from screaming or the poison coursing through her veins. She has been screaming, she's not ashamed to admit that. Anyone would have if they'd seen what she has. Her eyes are red and swollen, and there's salt on her cheeks from crying, but it's made no difference. It was never going to. 

Watching Lou being tortured is a thousand, a million times worse than having to deal with it herself. It's not that she's ever had a very high pain tolerance, but Debbie Ocean knows how to dissociate herself at times like this. Of course, Lou's had more practice than she has, but... it's not the same. Ever conscious of the poison burning through her, of the increasing fuzziness of her vision, of feeling hotter and more and more uncomfortable... it hasn't been enough to take away from what she's seen. 

Their primary weapon - or tool? instrument? - seems to be a cattle prod. At least Debbie now knows what it was they jabbed into her earlier, not that that makes it better. It's strong enough to hurt, but not enough to be an immediate risk, not if it's a quick touch. Debbie knows from her own experience that it can leave you aching afterwards though. 

That was bad enough, watching them jab Lou wherever they felt like it, watching her arch and twitch with the gag muffling her cries, and Debbie wasn't sure if she was supposed to beg, wasn't sure if she was supposed to say anything, but she didn't trust them to make it easier if she tried so she stayed silent. 

She stayed silent until they changed tacks, until they tilted Lou back till her feet were higher than her head and put a cloth over her face. 

Debbie started begging the moment she saw the watering can. She knew what was coming, but that was nothing compared to watching it, hearing it... they'd taken the gag out for that, and the sound of it had made Debbie empty her stomach over the concrete floor. That hadn't been enough to make them stop, though. 

They're back to the cattle prod now, and Debbie's almost pathetically grateful for that in comparison. 

Suddenly, a man appears in her peripheral vision - she thinks it's a man, a person, anyway - and crosses the room to where their torturer has the tool jabbed against Lou's neck. She's twitching in the restraints. Her breathing is shallow, but she is still breathing, and Debbie's grateful for that. They've never once let Lou lapse into unconsciousness, never once let there be a break in the pain. There's an art to it, one that makes her sick. 

There's a hurried discussion in a language she doesn't recognise, but it sounds Eastern European. Slavic, of some description. The man in charge is angry, shouting, but he's moving all the same and there's a change in the air. 

"Well Miss Ocean, it appears we shall have to cut the party short. We shall leave you and Miss Miller here with the door open. Restrained here with the weather as it is and no form of escape I suppose it will be an interesting test to see whether it is the weather or the atropine which kills you first. Either way, neither of you will leave here alive. I'm only sad that our acquaintance has been cut short so soon. I rather suspect the pleasure was all mine. To add a little spice to it, as a goodwill gesture, I'll release you from your chair. I suppose it would be fitting enough to die in each other's arms. Almost romantic."

Debbie doesn't move as he unfastens every buckle, she doesn't want him to know how much strength she still has. This is too good to be true, surely, a chance for them to get away, a chance that they might still survive, but to do that she has to play dumb, just for a little while. From the way Lou's breathing, Debbie doesn't think she's playing dumb at all. 

The man offers her a little bow when he finishes undoing all the straps, and if Debbie had any saliva left she would spit at him too. 

"Farewell, Miss Ocean. I won't see you again."

And he turns on his heel and walks out into the swirling snow. Debbie isn't sad to see him go.

She waits, counting her heartbeats until she's certain they're not coming back, then she pushes herself up from the bench. First thing is to check Lou. Second thing is to find a way out. And possibly the antidote. 

She stumbles across the room, suddenly grateful for the short distance between them, and she props herself on the headrest of Lou's bench, trying to focus. Her eyes are blurry, she can't see whether Lou's breathing or not, whether her eyes are open. 

"Lou? Lou, can you hear me?"

She starts fumbling at the straps, freeing Lou's wrists first, then her ankles, going back to her head, chasing sweat-soaked blonde hair back behind her ear and feeling for a pulse. It's not as strong as she'd like, but it's there, and Debbie freezes for a moment as Lou's hand closes vice-like on her wrist. 

"Debbie-"

"I'm here. I'm here. They're gone."

"Debbie don't go, please don't- don't leave me Debbie."

Fuck. She didn't think she could feel any worse about this. Now she knows she was wrong. She doesn't want to leave, she doesn't want to do anything but wrap around Lou and go to sleep, but then both of them really will die and she refuses to give in like that, just on principle. Debbie Ocean will never ever lay down and die, and she's not about to let Lou give in either. 

"I'm not... I'm not going anywhere baby, I'm going to stay right here, I promise, but I can't... I can't stay within arm's reach... I just need to go, just for a little while, I promise I'm not going far. I need to see if the idiot left us a phone. And they left fast enough that he might have left the antidote. I promise... I promise I'm not going far and I won't be long and I'll be right back, but I can't stay right here right now baby I'm so sorry..."

And her voice cracks, and her eyes fill with tears she didn't know she had left when Lou surrenders, slowly loosening her grip on Debbie's wrist, giving in. Debbie doesn't understand why Lou's still willing to trust her after all of this, but it doesn't change what she needs to do. 

She stumbles to the table, and there are boxes there with drug names she doesn't know on them, and, if there's a god Debbie knows at this moment she owes her, because Lou's phone is on the table half-covered by a stack of papers, and their bags are still in the corner. They might just make it out of this alive. 

Her hands are shaking and it takes a couple of tries to get the phone unlocked. Her eyes are so bad now she has to squint to read the contact list, but she eventually makes out the name she was looking for and hits call. 

"Lou?"

"Afraid not."

"We really must stop meeting like this. If you need my number, I can give it to you. Or you know, you could just copy it from Lou's phone. What's happened this time?"

"It's a long story, I'll fill you in more later. I've been poisoned. The guy said it was atropine. He also said he had an antidote."

"Atropine poisoning does have antidotes. If it was atropine, early symptoms are blurred vision, increased temperature and decreased sweating."

"Yeah. All of those."

"Okay. Look for anything with the label physostigmine or pilocarpine. If Lou's still smoking, take a drag, the nicotine will help, as will caffeine. How long ago were you posioned?"

"I don't know and I also don't know how much."

Debbie rummages frantically through the boxes, trying not to think about why he might have had this many drugs, but the word physostigmine catches her eye. 

"Okay. Okay I've got the physostigmine."

"Is it pre-measured?"

"Looks like it."

"Take one dose. There's a good chance if this was planned, and a planned reversal, the antidote's already measured. If not, we'll still be able to figure it out. Anticholinergics like atropine are treated by using cholinergics, like you can treat cholinergic poisoning with anticholinergics. Whatever you put in your system will help get the balance back to where it should be until the atropine clears your system. Either way it's unlikely to have you in as bad a situation as you are now."

Debbie unsheathes the needle and jabs it into her own thigh, biting back a curse as she depresses the plunger. 

Sue waits a beat, and then asks the question. 

"So, what the fuck is going on Debbie?"

And Debbie swallows and glances back to where Lou's still lying on that awful chair, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling. 

"...We're gonna need a rescue. Lou's in a bad way."

"You got poisoned and /Lou's/ in a bad way?" 

Debbie swallows again, her mouth is dry and she's practically numb, though she isn't sure if that's from the cold.

"...Yeah. She's... she's been tortured. I mean I guess..."

"You guess she's been tortured?"

"They made me watch..."

And her voice cracks, and she wants so much to fall apart, but she can't, because the only way they're getting out of this is if she holds it together a little while longer. 

Another beat. 

"Where are you?"

"Somewhere in Pennsylvania. I know it's not safe to drive, but-"

"We'll manage somehow. Where in Pennsylvania?"

"We came off the interstate for a diversion... there was a sign for a motel, then we crashed the bike, we were heading to the motel and then we got intercepted. They picked us up in a car. We weren't driving long, about... fifteen minutes? We're in some kind of warehouse."

"I'm going to call Leslie to narrow down your location. How bad is Lou?"

"She's still breathing, and she was conscious but I don't know if she still is."

"Keep her warm. And yourself, that's the priority. How come they left?"

"They got a call. They left the door open for us to freeze to death. I think they thought I was a lot further gone than I was."

"Shut the door, find whatever layers you can. If what you're wearing is wet, take that off. Cuddle together, and trust me when I say we will find you. I'm going to call in some back up."

"Who're you gonna call?"

"Ghostbusters. No, I think other than Leslie I'm going to call Tasha. She's pretty good in situations like this."

"Don't let her drive."

"I'm not letting her drive. Do your part and keep Lou warm, and yourself too. Don't move her too much unless you have to. It sounds like things got messy."

"And how."

Debbie knows she should hang up, that there are other things which should be her priority right now, but she's paralysed with reluctance to sever this link to the outside world. It feels like hope.

Sue seems to understand, because there's compassion in her voice when she says:

"Debbie. We're coming, I promise. It's going to be okay. Take care of Lou, and take care of yourself. Call me if anything changes. I'll let you know when we're on our way."

"Thanks Sue."

"Any time. Just don't make a habit of it. I'll see you soon."

And the call ends, and Debbie slips the phone back into her pocket because the weight of it is comforting even against the bruise on her thigh from the injections. It's a reminder, a promise that help is coming. 

She stumbles to the door first, managing eventually to tug it shut. It slams with a loud crash, but at least the howling wind is muffled now, consigned to outside. She grabs their bags from the corner with shaking hands and makes her way over to Lou, catching herself on the head of the chair when her legs threaten to give way under her. 

"I'm back, Lou... I'm back, I'm right here baby... rescue's coming... rescue's coming and I'm not poisoned anymore..."

Lou's hand catches her wrist again and Debbie lets her, leaning in close to brush Lou's hair back from her forehead, hoping the gentle contact is as soothing and comforting for Lou as it is for Debbie. 

"You don't... have to lie to me Deb..."

And her breath is hitching painfully in her chest and Debbie's stomach turns a little but there's nothing left in her system for it to reject. She curls her fingers around Lou's hand as much as she can, holding on tight in return. 

"I'm not. I'm not lying. I called Sue. She told me what to do. I found the antidote. The idiot just left it there. I'm not dying anymore, and Sue's coming to get us. She's going to call Leslie and figure out where we are."

"Deb... I don't think I can walk... pretty sure my ribs are broken..."

"You can't be sure of that."

"Sure as hell feels like the last time, Deb. I don't know if I'm getting out of here. Just don't leave me, 'kay Deb? Just stay with me. Just for a little while. Just till it's over."

"It's going to /be/ over when Sue gets here. She's coming to get us, and she'll take care of you. We're going to be okay."

And Debbie is projecting confidence she doesn't feel, because dammit, rescue is coming, rescue is coming and they're both going to live, and those /bastards/ are not going to win. 

"Yeah. Sure we are. Just do me a favour and stay with me a little while longer. I don't want you to leave again. Bad things happen when you leave me."

And Debbie isn't sure whether the sound she makes is a laugh or a sob as she tries to tuck herself up against Lou's side on the chair, trying not to cling too tight. She's not ever planning to leave Lou again. With her spare hand she tries to work open one of the packs they had on the bike, pulling out all the contents. There's not much, but there's a couple of days of spare clothes, and Debbie tucks that fabric around the two of them as much as she can, determined that somehow they're going to survive. 

***

Debbie isn't sure how long it's been when she hears the door screaming open, and she's too cold to move to investigate. If it's their captors come back, then there's nothing she or Lou can do about it. She's hoping it's rescue of some kind, and she cuddles closer to Lou's side, combing stiff fingers through Lou's hair again because it's so comforting to touch it and she can feel Lou breathing, can feel her pulse, but they're not as strong now and Debbie knows that whatever, whoever this is, it is their last chance. 

There are footsteps coming closer, and Debbie musters what strength she has, straining her sinews to lift her head. She catches a glimpse of two slight figures, one blonde, one redhead, in thick, fluffy winter jackets hurrying towards them.

She pushes herself to sit up, one arm still clutched tight to Lou's chest, and she has quite honestly /never/ been so glad to see anyone in her life as she is to see Sue and Natasha right now. 

"Over here!" 

Sue's pointing, and the two of them hurry over, tucking a blanket around Debbie's shaking shoulders, and one over Lou. 

Sue takes charge of Lou, and as the less serious case, Natasha seems to be handling Debbie. 

She helps Debbie sit up better and tucks the blanket tight, checking her pupils, moving a finger back and forth in front of her eyes to check that Debbie can focus. Debbie always has appreciated Natasha's efficiency. She checks Debbie's temperature too, and finally satisfied, she gently strokes Debbie's hair back in a rare gesture of tenderness and hands her a thermos. 

"You're cold, but that's to be expected. Pupils seem to be focussing better too, looks like the atropine's been handled for now. That's hot chocolate, sip it slowly. You need something warm and sweet, good for hypothermia and shock. How are you feeling?"

Debbie just shakes her head mutely. She doesn't even know how to begin answering that question. How is she supposed to feel right now?

She tries to turn and look at Lou, and Natasha gently catches her hands, takes the thermos back and unscrews the cap, pouring some out and pressing the lid into Debbie's hands. 

"Here. Drink. Lou's going to be fine."

And Debbie can see the questioning look she shoots Sue over Debbie's shoulder, checking whether she might be completely wrong. Debbie can't see Sue's response, but she can see the flash of relief in Natasha's eyes and the brief twist of a smile on her lips. That lets her unbend enough to lift the cocoa to her lips. It's hot enough to scald, but Debbie doesn't care. It feels good sliding down her throat, burning a path to her belly, like it's warming her up from the inside. 

They stay there for a little while, Natasha chafing Debbie's arms and legs, topping up the cocoa and giving her a look until she drinks it. Debbie finds she doesn't mind the feel of it on her tongue, and every swallow makes her feel a little more human. Sue is still bustling around her behind her, taking care of Lou, and the sound of Lou's voice, low and quiet, too quiet for Debbie to be able to make out what she's saying but vibrating through her nonetheless feels like a sunrise.

Natasha takes the thermos back and stows it in her bag, then holds an arm out, guiding Debbie off the chair and taking her weight when Debbie's legs threaten to give way. 

"I'm taking you out to the car, then I'm coming back in to help Sue get Lou out, okay? Get in the back, get strapped in. We'll handle the rest. You're going to have to look after Lou on the way back, okay? Do you think you can do that?"

And Debbie nods and licks her lips, moistening them, because this is important. 

"Yeah. Yeah. I can do that."

And Natasha gifts her a rare smile. 

"I thought you might."

And she helps Debbie out to the car and settles her in, and Debbie stares up at where the weak winter sun is fighting its way between the clouds because the snow has stopped falling and she is still alive and Lou is still alive and they've made it through. The sunrise feels like hope, and for the first time in a long time, Debbie smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Cameos from Marvel's Sue Storm and Natasha Romanov, because I can. Also a mention of Nine Ball. But yes, Sue used her real name. Don't worry, some more of the gang will be coming up later.
> 
> I really do promise it will start getting better from here.
> 
> Also I'm working on part nine right now, and it's got chapters (which was never the plan), so posting schedule might change after the next one!


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